


Gifts of Katabasis

by sparklight



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Resurrection, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: Dionysos has one more task before his apotheosis; bring his mother Semele up from the Underworld. It's hardly his fault he has the opportunity to take two more with him, now is it? Besides, Apollo has been sad about it for long enough, and if Dionysos can't have Ampelos, he can still give this.
Relationships: Apollo/Hyacinthus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Ariadne/Dionysus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 109





	Gifts of Katabasis

Dionysos stood in front of the king and queen of the Underworld with the tiniest of quirk-edged grins, a sparkle to his purple eyes, and politely bowed. Long, pale blond hair just barely tied back spilled over one shoulder, brushing the twisting little curls at the end of the short strands near his ears against his cheeks, made the same sort of twisting little curls at the end of his hair bounce and sway as he straightened back up.

"I apologize for the interruption."

"If that was true, you wouldn't be here at all," Hades said coolly, eyes narrowed and his lips thin, "what are you here for, then? Ampelos?"

The young man, not quite yet a god, shuddered at the mention of such a lost beloved. Flushed briefly but wrestled it under control. Ducked his head and shook it instead, and the rulers exchanged a glance before Dionysos looked up again. 

"No. Such loss can't be walked back and I will leave it where it has fallen, mad as though it makes me."

If he'd been grieving, it wasn't apparent when he raised his face again, wine-dark eyes full of stars and firm knowledge, the little smile still there on his lips and turning wider, sharp.

"I'm here for my mother, Ploutodoter and Melinoia. Favoured and loved by Father Zeus, marked in death from the manner of her death... surely not such a terrible request?" He cocked his head, and though the lazy narrowness of his eyes didn't widen, the smile remained too, a curious contrast. He was twisting a length of hair around a finger as he spoke, an idle twirl that tightened energy around the gleaming strands, though his attention was on the two gods on their thrones.

He was certainly not wrong, either. Semele had been loved most fiercely, but more than that, she had died in the conflagration of her mortal body being unable to stand the full shining glare of Zeus' divinity - for what mortal could handle such a thing? - and though it had reduced her to ashes in a single moment of lightning-struck fire, it had, too, marked her soul. She'd died a mortal woman, was nothing more or nothing less than that, but when she'd passed into Hades' domain, it was obvious the manner of her death had been woven into the makeup of her less fragile shade. Mortal, yet not.

Persephone was quiet as Hades straightened up, frowning more thoughtfully now as he eyed the would-be god in front of him, still wet with mortality among the immortal qualities that glittered like raw gems caught in a rock matrix.

"If you are divine enough to see her, you may take her. If you can find her among the others, you may take her and leave with no further restrictions or conditions." Hades sat back, gesturing to the throne room around them. It gleamed with polished stone and cut jewels, but was seemingly empty of anything else but the three of them and, off to the side seated on a bench, the three additional judges who assisted the Lord of the Dead in his work. Dionysos frowned, glancing around, and for the first time since he'd come down here, he looked uncertain. He'd had help, to get here; Herakles had restrained Kerberos to make sure Dionysos could pass deeper in, could come in front of the god and goddess and lay his request at their feet. Now, though, there was no more help. This, he would have to do alone.

Slowly, the frown smoothed out and Dionysos pursed his lips. Paused briefly on a spot near the pillars around the hearth, then closed his eyes and gently tapped his thyrsus against the near mirror-polished floor. Once, twice, into a rhythm. Started swaying, and though he didn't hum, soon there was the ghostly presence, less than even an echo, of the high, insistent song of auloi in the air. Tossing his long hair over his shoulder again, Dionysos opened his eyes and looked around the empty throne room.

Empty; but heavy. There was more here than the six of them.

He took a step sideways, then turned sharply around, circling the hearth and the four pillars that marked it out, shaped like upside-down torches. The ceiling glittered with jewels, catching the light and magnifying it. Dionysos' feet were bare, so the only sound was the rhythmic tap of his thyrsus, following some pattern that had nothing to do with his steps or even the music winding like audible ghosts through the air, for he was walking far more sedately than the rhythm he was tapping out.

Finally, somewhere off on the right hand side of Hades, deeper into the throne room and nearly opposite to the door, Dionysos stretched his hand out, gently closed it about nothing, and tugged. Semele shimmered into view like a drowning man takes in air, in great, heaving flickering shudders, though she was yet insubstantial when she came into proper focus. Great piles of golden hair piled about her head, and though the golden bands that sectioned her tresses off were sooty in reminder of the fire that'd taken her life, they gleamed in the light.

"Dionysos!" Semele exclaimed, breathless and looking barely older than her son, reaching out with the hand he wasn't holding her with and cradled his cheek. Dionysos smiled in wide, sweet-faced pleasure for the first time, wiping away the heavy, lazy grin that'd spoken of something more than just mortal amusement.

"Mother. From here on, your name will be Thyone." He leaned in and kissed her cheek, so assured of the possibility to do so that, though he sank just a little past her pearlescent transparency, he didn't fall through. Turning around to face Hades and Persephone again, Dionysos dipped his head, sharply inquiring like an opaque-eyed bird. "I will not ask for _boons_ , my lord and lady."

He would not ask for boons, indeed. Hades looked distinctly pinched suddenly and sighed, reluctance in every line of his towering body. Persephone, however, her honey-brown eyes dancing along with the fire in the hearth, was smiling.

"Oh? You will not? What is it then you won't ask for, little brother?" Persephone chuckled while Hades slowly tipped his face into his hand, entirely missing the return of Dionysos' quirk-ended smile.

"A princess shouldn't leave any place unescorted or unattended. My mother deserves attendants, does she not?" So sweetly asked, and Persephone arched an eyebrow that was ruby in the fire-flickering light.

"Who would you propose, then?"

Hades, who'd opened his mouth, snapped it closed and grunted, rubbing his eyes. Persephone ignored him entirely, far too entertained by the audacity. Dionysos looked around the still seemingly empty throne room, and pointed to the spot near the hearth he’d looked at earlier, from his vantage point just barely seen past one of the pillars.

"Those two. A handmaiden and an escort should be more than enough to be proper."

Persephone looked between Dionysos and the spot. Stared for a couple beats longer, and then laughed until there was a fine jangling rattle from the jewelled strings that held her hair up in their piles on her head, until a couple of the jewelled bands clattered against the side of the throne she sat on. Hades finally looked up, arched an eyebrow and, with a single, long sigh, allowed himself something of the tiniest of smiles. Persephone stopped laughing, though her eyes were still dancing as she looked to Dionysos again, dropping a graceful, ringed hand on top of her husband's.

"That would indeed be proper. Now, turn around and leave with them all, but don't look back." She paused, her amusement mellowing out into something sweeter. "This is a kind gift, Lyaios."

"I grew up hearing about his sorrow as well as anyone did," Dionysos said with a shrug that spoke of dismissive nonchalance, but there was an energy to his step that belied his anticipation. He came up to the thrones and bowed again, paying no attention at all to the young man and woman he'd pointed out. "Sister. Uncle."

Hades sighed and straightened up, gesturing him away. "Leave, young Dionysos, before you somehow disrupt us even more."

Laughing, the thyrsus now marking his steps and not some rhythm unheard by anyone else, the son of Zeus and Semele left, his arm around the newly-named Thyone and followed by the sliding shift of the two shades, invisible just yet. He walked with confident, relaxed ease, whispering of his exploits to his mother and telling her of Ariadne, waiting on the shore of the lake. How they all would go from there to Olympos, he wasn't yet sure, but it seemed a small concern in the face of everything else.

Four people emerged, dripping wet and practically glowing in the light of a full moon, from the lake. Ariadne, who'd been sitting on the shore poking at the sand with a stick, flew to her feet, as stunned for the success as she was relieved to see the ghostly fire that was just beyond sight crowning Dionysos' hair in the shape of vine leaves and a grape cluster.

"Dionysos!" She flew towards him, for a moment entirely ignoring the young woman at his side, the two behind him. Ignoring too that he was sopping wet, and that he was not much more strongly built than she. He still caught her with elegant ease, somehow also not knocking the thyrsus into the back of her head as his arm came around her and he twirled her.

"Ariadne! This is my mother, Thyone." Putting her to her feet, Dionysos watched Ariadne stare at his mother, uncomprehending for a beat, then she blinked.

"Oh! I'm glad he succeeded," she said, relaxing and reaching out, only a little tentatively brushing fingers over One of Thyone’s slender arms.

"I'm as surprised as you are," Thyone said, shaking her head slowly.

"And those two...?" Ariadne looked past Dionysos and his mother to the young pair behind them.

"Ah!" Dionysos turned and waved them forward, and the youth lost his hesitation and waded through the shallow water to walk up on the beach, pulling the girl with him. Both kept casting glances down onto the ground, as if they couldn't quite believe the sensation of water parting around their calves and ankles, the wet, clinging sand under their soles, or the faint, autumn-biting wind and cool air. The girl shivered, throwing her arms around herself and suddenly she laughed, wild and incredulous.

"Polyboia..." the young man turned to look at her, concerned, and Dionysos reached out, patting his tanned arm consolingly.

"Don't worry about it, she's fine." A pause, and though he kept looking up at the curly-headed youth, hair spilling about his ears, he took one of Ariadne's hands, pulling it to his mouth and kissing the fingers, clearly not having forgotten her question. He was, for the first time, hesitating, looking down at the young man earnestly. "Are you fine with coming with us? I know what I said, but---"

" _Yes_. I want---" the young man paused, flushing, and glanced up at the cloudless sky, the gleaming moon high above them, then down at the ground again. "... If that would be something he'd want, you think?"

Dionysos snorted and patted his arm again, his hesitation melting away and lazy confidence replacing it. "Oh, he'd _definitely_ want that. Ariadne, this is Prince Hyacinthus and his sister, Princess Polyboia."

"Hya--- _oh_."

Polyboia, meanwhile, had managed to stop laughing near hysterically, her head tipped back to the sky as she spun around in the shallow water, and took a deep breath and came up to Thyone's other side, nodding. 

"I'm fine with it. Being the handmaiden of your mother would be an honour."

"Thank you," Thyone said with a smile, then looked to her son, pursing her lips in thought - at that moment it was very obvious that the two of them were related, "and now?"

Dionysos blinked and looked around, once more hesitation creeping in on his otherwise relaxed, but coiled, amusement.

"Ah, well---"

"With us. Father Zeus has deemed this enough," Artemis said as she stepped off her chariot as if it'd been there for a while and not suddenly appeared, the glittering spots on the hinds' backside glowing in the moonlight. Beside her, Aphrodite stepped off the large chariot driven by Nike. She came up to them with a smile while Artemis gestured to Polyboia and Hyacinthus.

"Congratulations Dionysos Eleutherios. You are now worthy to join your father and the rest of the Deathless Ones on Olympos," Aphrodite said as she took both Ariadne's and Dionysos' hands, holding them in her own, "and I'm sure both I and Queen Hera would be pleased to bless your union."

Ariadne ducked her head, a blush on her cheeks, but there was nothing shy about her grin in the least, and Dionysos practically glowed.

"Lead on then, Lady Aphrodite." Then he paused, glancing over to where Artemis was getting ready with her own chariot. "Perhaps you could hang back a little when we land?"

She looked up, staring at Dionysos, then she slowly looked over at Hyacinthus and then a wicked smile spread over her face, bright blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight like the spots on her deer. "Oh, I _like you_. Certainly!"

While Artemis laughed, a ringing sound as wickedly amused as her smile earlier, Hyacinthus rolled his eyes but didn't _say anything_ about it, and so they set off, the siblings with Artemis, Dionysos, Ariadne and Thyone with Nike and Aphrodite in Zeus' large chariot, drawn by the Winds.

The land fell away below them, offering a stunning view of water, mountains, and the lush plains and valleys between those, though soon they were high enough that what few, scattered veils of clouds there were teasingly concealed the land below. Ariadne clung to his arm, but while she was quiet at first, perhaps as much for their esteemed company as for the height they were travelling at, soon she was exclaiming over what they saw, though details were of course impossible to point out in the darkness. Dionysos kept himself from leaning out over the rim of the chariot only by the worried looks his mother kept shooting him and the grip she had on his hand, though her concern seemed mostly to be for other matters entirely.

"---think it'll be fine, Lady Aphrodite? I don't see how she will be pleased to have me there."

"Don't worry about it too much," Aphrodite said with a small, patient smile while she tucked an errant, flying curl behind an ear, "Hera won't be pleased, of course, but she knows she'll have no reason to do anything now."

Thyone exhaled sharply and closed her eyes, but nodded.

The trip was otherwise mostly spent in silence, and Dionysos was as filled with anticipation for his triumphant arrival as for the reactions for what he was bringing with him; it would only make the whole thing that much more sweet. Such luck that Hermes had described Hyacinthus so well when he told the story, _and_ that Hyacinthus and his sister had been present in the throne room to fill out the crowd of shades. As if a crowd would have been enough to hide his mother from him, even if they'd used the whole Underworld as buffer! He smirked softly, quietly pleased, and took a breath in anticipation as they landed to a crowd.

Now, then.

Dionysos stepped off first, then helped his mother and Ariadne off. He knew this could be a little... tricky, but ah well. No one was going to make a scene _right now_ , though as he turned to face Hera and Zeus, he could see the cold fury in her golden brown eyes for a brief moment, quickly suppressed. Hera sniffed sharply and met his eyes briefly, he dipped his head, and then she looked away, staring across the horizon instead with her chin high. He could not say he was particularly upset at causing her upset.

Zeus did, for a moment - long, and yet barely a heartbeat - stare at Thyone with a sort of wide-eyed, silvery weight to the expression on his face that spoke of many things, and then he turned to look down on his son instead.

"You have more than proven yourself worthy of joining our ranks, young Dionysos. Welcome." Zeus smiled, then, wide and pleased in a quiet way, and laid his hand on top of Dionysos' head.

Fire.

It was like a caress, honestly. Like finding something he'd nearly forgotten he was familiar with, having been carried in his father's body as he had; it was like finding home. When his father transferred his hand to Thyone, Dionysos felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in his life, and was more than ready to hold his mother up as she sagged against him with a breath-stolen gasp of the fire burning her mortality away.

"O-oh---" Thyone suppressed anything else, and above them Hera sniffed but otherwise said nothing, and so Dionysos kept his eyes on his mother and smiled, propping her up until she found her feet and strength again. Then he served the same sort of support for Ariadne, though she found her feet quicker than his mother had.

"Ganymede." Zeus didn't even need to make it a call, really; the boy came around him from only a couple steps away, offering a kantharos full of gleaming, opalescent nectar. Dionysos took it with a quiet thank you, and had to admit he had, perhaps, been rather presumptuous in thinking to compare his darling Ampelos with his father's cupbearer. But then, the comparison was as unfair as it was unfair to compare mostly any mortal to one of the Deathless Ones, so he could only appreciate the graceful hands as they handed him the kantharos, the elegant shift of muscle as Ganymede dipped his head and stepped back.

Dionysos emptied the kantharos to two thirds, then gave it to his mother. She hesitated, then drank almost all of the rest, and handed it back to him and Dionysos gave it to Ariadne in turn. He could _feel it_ when the air, the ground underneath their feet, shifted just slightly and then settled. It was acknowledgement, it was a boon, it was his rightful place. Zeus looked down and met his eyes with another smile, clapping him on the shoulder before he stepped aside, letting others take his place. Dionysos soaked it all up, each and every hard-won word of praise and welcome, but the most important thing had been his welcome by the King and Queen of Olympos; now, he was mostly waiting for one god in particular to come up to him.

When Apollo finally did, Dionysos was not so much vibrating as heavy-limbed and heady with his own anticipation.

"Congratulations." Apollo's smile was small, and said not much of anything, but his hands on Dionysos' shoulders were strong and warm, squeezing with firm weight to convey what his expression didn't. Dionysos found his smile widening again, as it had done for Zeus and Hermes, helplessly pleased. Then, it went smaller - sharper, secrets and anticipation turning it almost dark. It seemed to take Apollo back, and Dionysos quickly reached out, grabbing one graceful wrist and giving it a squeeze of his own before Apollo could retreat far.

"Thank you. Just a moment, though. I have something for you."

"For me?" Apollo was baffled, but indulgent - perhaps a little disbelieving - amusement was now colouring his face, his voice. Around them, the crowd had fallen quiet, wondering at the swerve away from the most obvious script to be applied to an event such as this.

"Just something I found while bringing my mother up," Dionysos said lazily, tapping his cheek and catching one of the twisty little ringlet curls at the end of a hank of hair, twining it around his fingers as he spoke, "and the lord and lady were very kind in indulging me."

More amused at his audacity, perhaps, as well as testing his resolve. But Dionysos had always been more than a regular sort of demigod child, carried in his father's thigh as he'd been, so what sort of a god would he be if he couldn't take a couple extra souls with him and be confident they would be behind him when he reached the surface? Apollo, uncomprehending, was still staring down at him, a graceful eyebrow arched, indulgent and confused. Perhaps getting a little irritated. He was completely unprepared.

"Something you unwillingly lost," Dionysos said and stepped away, which was when Artemis gently pushed her mother to the side and pushed her deer sideways too, and Hyacinthus stood up from where he'd been sitting on the edge of her chariot. Apollo had, of course, not paid attention to the girl Artemis had had her arm around after they'd landed and stepped off their respective chariots. Probably taking her for a nymph despite that mortality weighed her down like she was soaked from a rainstorm, full of earthly presence. To be fair, if he'd ever even met Polyboia, it would undoubtedly have been in passing and he would hardly have been interested in etching more than Hyacinthus himself into memory after the youth's death.

So Apollo hadn't noticed her, and didn't notice now either. No, he looked up beyond Dionysos' shoulder as people shifted to the side, and froze.

Those brilliant blue eyes turned wide and brittle, washed out into gray, almost, while he paled like a fresh maiden, the colour of his skin - or perhaps more like his body entire, from physical flesh to the essence within - turning into a shade of ghostly pale citrine. Apollo almost seemed transparent and he suddenly looked very, very young.

"This---" His voice cracked, and the air turned hard to breathe. The light flickered. It didn't get _dark_ , but the heat of the light wavered like spring uncertain whether it was to land or not, a shy songbird fluttering about a welcoming hand.

"Apollo?" Concern darkened Hyacinthus' voice and he took a step forward, but he got no further as Apollo took a shuddering breath, his colours rushing back in and then darkening, flushing him full as he leaped forward, though if he'd intended to sweep Hyacinthus up in his arms, his legs seemed to disagree with him the second he threw his arms around the young man. Instead he sort of collapsed against him, a wordless, breathless noise muffled against Hyacinthus' chest - the god was taller than the resurrected youth, but he'd folded as if he had no strength in his muscles, curled up as Hyacinthus shifted his stance to compensate, arms coming up around strong, graceful shoulders. "I'm sorr---"

" _You_ are sorry?" Apollo sounded rather strangled, and while there was all his hair in the way and his back was turned to the rest and thus no way to tell his expression, the way Hyacinthus' face contorted was probably a good clue. Something like a groan came from Apollo and then he finally seemed to find enough coordination to, if not stand up properly, catch Hyacinthus' face in his hands and pull him down, letting Hyacinthus hold him up while he kissed him like he'd disappear in the very next heartbeat.

Dionysos smiled, feeling very pleased with himself - he jumped at the brush of a hand on his shoulder and looked sideways, up. Zeus wasn't smiling, but the serious expression spoke of something deeper, of approval as well as exasperation.

"You've both broken rules and done something very precious here, Dionysos."

The young god smiled again, a slow, terrible sort of thing that was as proudly smug as it was sweet. 

"I know, Father."

In front of them, Apollo finally found his legs and stood upright, plucked Hyacinthus into his arms and disappeared. He'd undoubtedly be back to demand immortality and eternal youth for the young man returned from where most go only once and never come back from, but for now there were more important matters to deal with. For all of them, actually.


End file.
